


a textbook example of why it's important to communicate your feelings to your significant other.

by Shadowandherfools



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Petting, Humanstuck, Laughter During Sex, Pillow Talk, Porn With Plot, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, cheesy romantic smolts, unintentional casual transexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowandherfools/pseuds/Shadowandherfools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Damara Megido and you completely adore Rufioh Nitram even if you weren't that good at showing it sometimes, and it seemed like he was just as fond of you. You had just moved with you boyfriend of 4 months and things were going pretty well. Sure you had your fair share of arguments, and maybe some (or all) of his friends could get kind of annoying at times, but Rufioh was funny and easy to talk to and even let you be the big spoon when you cuddled.</p><p>Yes, you were tentatively starting to believe that he might be the one. There was just one glaring issue standing in your way from falling completely: you hadn't so much as seen him without a shirt…</p>
            </blockquote>





	a textbook example of why it's important to communicate your feelings to your significant other.

**Author's Note:**

> 100% self indulgent, love this ship wanted to see something happy in the tag, and wanted to see more queer headcanons applied to Rufioh.
> 
> kinda takes place in an AU where Damara never had her break down.

Your name is Damara Megido and you completely adore Rufioh Nitram even if you weren't that good at showing it sometimes, and it seemed like he was just as fond of you. You had just moved with you boyfriend of 4 months and things were going pretty well. Sure you had your fair share of arguments, and maybe some (or all) of his friends could get kind of annoying at times, but Rufioh was funny and easy to talk to and even let you be the big spoon when you cuddled.

Yes, you were tentatively starting to believe that he might be the one. There was just one glaring issue standing in your way from falling completely: you hadn't so much as seen him without a shirt…

That's not to say your relationship didn't have it's hot and heavy moments- oh no, you had more than your fair share of those. You'd made the oh-so-pleasant discovery early on that Rufioh had a mind blowing talent for oral sex and absolutely loved to lavish you with attention. And that was all well and good- very good- but he never let your reciprocate. Admittedly you sometimes thought it was stupid complaint, god knows what other girls would pay to be in a sexual relationship where the only thing they had to do was lay back and get eaten out without being expected to do anything in return, but you couldn't really deny the growing sense of inadequacy that pulsed inside of you every time he pushed your hands away.

So of course you did what every twenty-some-odd-year-old women did when they were having strange and personal relationship problems, and took your concerns directly to your friends. All of whom had their own strange ideas of what was going on.

"Do you think maybe he's cheating on you?"

"Maybe he doesn't find you attractive, but doesn't want you to feel bad?"

"He might be cheating on you!" "I bet he's in the closet- you're totally just his beard."

"totally cheating on you."

"he's probably got a tiny dong."

God, your friends were all complete jackasses. All you really learn from them was that you probably shouldn't ever ask them for their opinions ever again, because all it really did was make you feel so much worse about yourself. You knew that you'd have to confront Rufioh about it, but now you were straight up terrified that one of them might have been right. So you keep your insecurities to yourself, letting them continue to fester and grow until you can hardly look or talk to him anymore.

It takes about a week of living in a tiny apartment with your new room mate: a near deafening awkward silences, before the two of you realize that things probably aren't going to blow over and you're going to have to talk about your problems like grown-ass adults.

Rufioh blessedly makes the first move.

You're dozing off to a particularly boring documentary on socioeconomic trends in Japan and the effects they have on the global market for a business class that was required for your major, when he walks in the bedroom and shuts the television off. You think for a moment that he thought you'd fallen asleep listening to the monotone dribble of the narrator going on and on about the "Japanese work ethic" So you bolt upright and snap at him about how you were totally awake and watching that, but he just lets out a soft sigh and sits down on the bed next to you.

"We gotta talk about this, doll." He murmurs nervously running his finger through his messy hair.

"… Talk about what?" You say dumbly hoping you can some how avoid this conversation because it still fucking terrifies you.

"I don't know… you, me, us? To tell ya' the truth I'm not entirely sure what I did wrong…" He lets out a nervous chuckle his eyes darting up to meet yours for a moment. Well, looks like this was happening.

"You… didn't do anything wrong." You say, it's all you can do to keep yourself from bolting out the door right here and now, because you're almost certain that this conversation is going to end with you packing your things and leaving anyways.

"Oh… oh, God- this is moving too fast for you isn't it? I'm so sorry! I should have never asked you to move in with me, four months is not enough time to-"

"No… no." You cut him off before he can get too far. "That's not it, I just…" You swallow hard when you realize you've never actually thought about how to put your feelings into words "I mean I'm just- I can't… sometimes I don't…" You're about to start sobbing like an idiot but he doesn't push you for an answer, he just wraps his arm around your waist and patiently waits for you to find the words. "I'm not good enough for you, am I?" your voice is barely audible, but the way Rufioh goes stiff you're sure he's heard you.

"Damara… You're being ridiculous!" Rufioh laughs awkwardly and pulls you closer. "I love you more than anything, where did that even come from?"

"It's stupid… but you know how you've never taken your clothes off in front of me? You never told me why, and I talked to some people about it and-" "Whoa, alright slow down a little!" he rubs soothing little circles against your shoulder that effectively calm you down.

"I'm so sorry Damz, I should have told you sooner… I was just scared of how you would react."

"Tell me what?"

"Well…" he hesitates for a moment before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside revealing two long uniform scars just under his pectoral muscles. The corner of his mouth twitches a little bit "I wasn't exactly born male… or at least not in a physical since."

You open your mouth to try to form some sort of apology for assuming the worst, but you're lost for words- a completely and utterly lost. Out of all your fears and doubts you had never, never considered this a possibility and to tell the truth you weren't exactly sure how you should feel. You didn't feel betrayed by the fact that he was trans; you just felt… really really under prepared for that answer.

"I'm sorry I really should have told you sooner… I was just so afraid I'd lose you over this." His voice sounds small, scared, and you realized stunned slack-jawed silence probably wasn't the most encouraging response you could have offered up.

You let your hand creep across the bedspread curling your fingers around his. "I'm not mad..." you reassure him "but his is a lot." You mutter feeling him squeeze your hand hard, like he's afraid you're going to slip out of his grasp and disappear forever.

"I understand if you wanna break up… I'm kind'a used to it." he lets out a laugh that you assume is supposed to ease the tension, but it comes out so bitterly that your heart breaks.

You know what he was trying to do at least; he was trying to give you an out, so you can leave without feeling guilty. And you can meet someone new and live a normal life with kids and a picket fence and a dog or something. But that notion made you feel incredibly empty and cold inside, because you didn't want any of that- except maybe the dog. You wanted to be with Rufioh and have dumb movie nights and bicker about the proper way to load the dishwasher and accidentally stay up till sunrise trying to explain Evangleon's bullshit symbolism to him.

You don't want normal or safe.

You want him.

You pull him into the deepest most passionate kiss in the world, probably. He let out a cute little chirping noise and holds you tight against his chest and the two of you tumble backwards onto the bed- which would have been a grand sweeping romantic gesture… if your forward momentum hadn't caught you off balance and caused you to head-butt the ever loving shit out of your boyfriend.

He tosses you off of him in favor of clutching his head and letting out a string of obscenities while you laugh hysterically. "Jesus Christ, what are you part mountain goat or something?"

"Oh you poor baby!" You tease gently pulling his hands away and brushing your fingertips lightly over the point of impact "it doesn't look too bad, but I'll get you an ice pack just incase." You hop off the bed to grab one out of the freezer but he grabs you around the waist and pulls you back down on top of him this time with less skull knocking.

"I think all I need is for someone to kiss it better." he purrs and it's so unbelievably corny you just have to kiss him again. He lets out a soft hum as you run your fingers through his hair and plant a kiss against his temple.

You feel the warmth of his slightly calloused hands brush against the bare skin on your lower back wear your night shirt has ridden up a little bit. His hands slowly trail over the slight dip in your waist pushing your shirt up your body. You raise your hands above your head allowing him to pull it off. He stares at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, despite your love handles and the stretch marks that run along your hips and thighs. It's almost like he doesn't actually see any of your imperfections, and for a moment you actually believe they don't exist.

"So, uh, how exactly do we do this?" You murmur. You can feel your face grow hot from the embarrassment of having to ask that question.

"Well, you don't have to do anything you don't wanna…" he says absentmindedly petting your outer thigh "… but we've got lots of options. I guess right now for simplicities sake, we could just skip the speech and use a strap-on."

You nod in understanding only feeling slightly more at ease. This was new and weird, and you probably should have taken some time to adjust to the situation. But your inhibitions momentarily fade as he kisses your deer-in-the-headlights expression away before slowly easing you onto your back so that he's about halfway on top of you. His fingers lightly graze the waistband of your panties not quite letting them dip underneath the delicate red lace trim.

"Doing okay, Damz?" he murmurs against the corner of your mouth. You hesitate for a moment taking a moment to really question whether or not you were actually ready to go through with this before nodding slowly tucking your arm somewhat awkwardly over his shoulder and edging even closer to him.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine." Your voice came out severely less confident than you had hoped it would. He let's out a soft laugh and gives you a soft peck on the lips

"You'll be sure to tell me when to stop won't you?" he purrs and you nod dumbly in response. The muscles in your upper thighs involuntarily flex as his fingers brush over the crotch of your panties before he pushes the slightly damp red fabric to the side and gently caresses the velvety pink flesh underneath. You gasp at the pleasant sensation that settles in your stomach and chest and cling tightly to him as he hums softly against your temple obviously and rightfully pleased with his handy work.

You run your fingers through his hair sweeping the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone staring into his soft brown eyes. You try to focus on the good things in this situation like him and how he's making you feel, and not the fact you hadn't shaved in like a week or that you'd had Taco Bell for dinner so your breath was probably rank as hell.

"Ya' know, red's such a good color on you…" his voice is soft and affectionate and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine. "…it makes you look so sexy"

"I always look sexy" you growl playfully drawing an amused laugh out of him.

"True, but you look even sexier in red," he purrs punctuating his statement with a long lavish kiss that makes you melt into the bed sheets.

He presses two fingers into you moving them in a slow come-hither motion that sends you over the moon. After roughly 4 or 5 months of heavy petting he's got you pretty well figured out; there's no poking around playing the Hot or Cold game. He just dives in, so to speak, with all the confidence in the world touching and stretching in all the right places until you're writhing mess who can do little more than pant his name desperately.

"You ready to meet Rebel Yell?" he coos.

Things come to a very abrupt stop when you burst into laughter at that proposition. "Did you… did you really give your strap-on a name?" you ask between heavy gasps and trills of laughter. You felt like an asshole for laughing at your boyfriend in the middle of sex, but that question caught you so completely off guard you can't fucking help it.

"Shut-up!" he whines in a mock-pouting tone that assures you that you didn't just crush his self esteem. "It's important to be comfortable with your sex toys."

"And you do that by giving them stripper names?" you laugh.

"I think it's kind of sexy…" he mutters slipping his fingers out of you and doing a strange little action roll across the bed to root around through his bedside table.

"If you don't like the size or texture we can always find something more your speed." he says as a small puff of air leaves your lungs when he tosses a bright red hunk of silicone and plastic in your lap.

You pick it up and examine "Rebel Yell" for a moment; it was an L-shaped contraption with one end extending out into a normal penis shape with a few little ridges near the base that provides a little bit of clitoral stimulation to the person topping, while the other was thicker and rounder and tapered a little at the base to help keep it in place. You turn it over in your hands a few times discovering the vibratory settings, you're not exactly sure what a sufficient amount of observation should be, so you just mess around with it until you hear Rufioh clear his throat.

"Uh… everything alright there, doll?" He laughs.

"Oh- er, sorry." you hand it back to him. "It's good… it'll totally work" you mutter.

And here you were at the "moment of truth" so to speaks, the reality of what he had told you was beginning to sink in. He gives you a little nervous smile, like he's very aware that the possibility of you freaking out still exists to some small degree, as he hesitantly pushes down his jeans.

"actually… do you think that maybe you could not watch right now?" he mutters a little embarrassed blush crossing his cheeks. "I'm not gonna lie, I might have a little stage fright right now."

"oh, sure." You avert your eyes studying the spackle pattern on the ceiling as he struggles out of his pants.

"Alright we're good." He replies situating himself between your legs his prosthetic cock rubbing against the fabric of your panties.

You lift your legs and let him slide the delicate lace garment down your before you hook them around his waist. He prods gently at your entrance sliding inside with no issue at all. It's admittedly a little strange. You could feel the warmth of his body against your skin, his breath against the shell of your ear, the gentle connection of his hips against yours, everything felt like sex except for the sensation of cold hard silicone inside you. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, just strange enough to sit in the back of your mind.

He pushes into you quickly angling his hips upward and drawing the head of his dick slowly against your G-spot before snapping his hips back against yours and pulling back out in the same fashion. You arch your back in time with the ebbs in his movement letting out a soft sexy coo.He cradles your head in one hand kissing at the tunt uber-sensitive tendons that ran up the sides of your neck letting out the occasional gasp against your heated flesh. You racking your nails ever so lightly down his spine in response, just enough to send a district shiver through his body.

You can feel the tension mounting in the pit of your stomach like a coil winding tighter and tighter. You start murmur affectionate little nothings in your native tongue because you know it drives him crazy and he picks up his pace evening out his strokes as he begins to pant in desperation.

You're trembling now toes curled tightly against the balls of your feet. The sensation in your stomach keeps building up and up and up until it finally just snaps washing over your entire body in a rush of pleasure so intense your abdomen twitches. Rufioh follows suit shortly thereafter shuddering against you with a soft indignant little noise.

He flops down beside you with a happy sigh and pulls the strap on out of himself with a little wet "pop" setting it down on the end table. "I'll clean it later" he replies closing his eyes.

You roll over on top of him and give him a little smile and a quick peck on the lips. "I still have to finish that documentary." You remind him.

"That's fine with me, it'll help me sleep!" he purrs softly and you flick his nose playfully.

"You're not going to provide moral support, what good are you?" You say in a melodramatic tone.

"I believe I just proved myself literally 2 seconds ago..." He mutters.

You settle against his chest pouting a little bit as you watch him doze off... honestly you can't really be bothered to move from your spot either. Granted, you still wanted things like a shower before you retired, but for now you were more than content with just curling up against Rufioh and listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

"You get a pass for now I guess." You reply and he lets out an amused snort before a comfortable silence lapses between the two of you. You can't remember the last time you felt this good. It was as if a thousand pound weight had been lifted from your chest and you don't have a care in the world- that assignment could go to hell.

You idely trace the scars on his chest with the tips off your fingers. Rufioh cracks an eye open giving you a little smile. "got a thing for my battle scars?" he asks his voice is a little husky in fatigue.

"battle scars?" you raise your eyebrows.

"s'what my little brother calls'em." He yawns.

You smile placing soft kiss on each of his scars. "I like it." you murmur. "it's fitting."

"Well I like you!" He replies punctuating his statement by lightly tapping your nose.

You laugh lightly placing a light kiss on his lips "Eu amo você." you say.

"I love you too doll..." He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. "I love you so much."

Your name is Damara Megido and you completely adore Rufioh Nitram.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find Rebel Yell here: https://www.feeldoe.com/feeldoe_toys.html


End file.
